Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds)

by Kearns, Morgan

  She sighed. “It’s okay. They’re my ghosts, not yours.”

  “I’ll never hurt you, Shayne.” He kissed her brow. “I might yell and scream and even put my fist into the wall, but I promise I will never—” He tipped her chin with his finger and looked into her eyes to finish his vow. “—I will never lay an angry hand on you.”

  Her timid smile broke his damn heart.

  “I just wanted you to know.” He jerked his head toward the giant window leading to the parking lot where Matt was climbing into the backseat of his SUV. “Him either. I don’t believe hitting is the solution for anything. I really, really like you, Shayne. Matt, too. And I want this to work out.”

  Tears swam in her eyes. “I like you, too, Enrique.”

  He beamed at her. “I love when you say my whole name. The way you roll your r’s is really damn sexy.”

  “Enrique.”

  He groaned and swatted her butt. “Come on, let’s get out there before he takes off with my car.”

  ***

  Shayne hadn’t laughed so hard in a very long time. Matt and Ricky took turns telling your mama jokes all through dinner. Matt had started it, most likely thinking Ricky wouldn’t take a stab at his mama. Instead Ricky had looked at her and grinned, mischief sparking in his eyes.

  “No offense, beautiful, but—” Pointing a finger at Matt, Ricky announced, “Your mama is so fat the scale says one at a time please.”

  And it went from there, each trying to do one better than the other. When Ricky slurped the bottom of his drink, Matt jumped to his feet. “I’ll grab refills if I can hit the arcade.”

  “Deal.”

  Matt gathered the glasses. When he came back a few minutes later, Ricky handed over a twenty.

  Her son’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Really?”

  Ricky jogged his head in the affirmative. “Have fun.”

  Matt let out a whoop and took off at a dead run.

  Ricky chuckled and scooped up her hands. “That should keep him busy for a while, huh?”

  “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “I know. I wanted to.” His thumb ran over her knuckles. “So, why’d you leave Kingman?”

  She wished she could take her hands back and wrap her arms around her middle to keep from falling apart. He had a way of making her vulnerabilities stand out.

  “Long story.”

  Another swipe of his thumb. “I think we already decided we have a while.”

  She didn’t want to look in his eyes, but found herself seeking the comfort she knew would be staring back. Love and compassion glittered in his dark eyes and it annoyed her. “The bottom line is, I’m living in my brother’s house, forced to let a man take care of me because I can’t do it myself.”

  Well, hell, didn’t she sound like a bitter, thankless, bitch?

  “He’s your brother. I’m sure he’s happy to help you get back on your feet.”

  “I know he doesn’t mind. And I know it’s not like it’s a huge financial hardship.” How could she make him understand? “I moved from LA to Kingman when I was seventeen.”

  If he did the math in his head, he didn’t show it.

  “My mom stayed there, I moved in with my grandparents. They were old even then.” She smiled, thinking of their old-fashioned, hard-working ways.

  “Is your mom still around?”

  Her amusement vanished. “No. Cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s been a long time.” She shrugged. “I helped out in my grandparents’ diner. It wasn’t too long before they weren’t able to do much anymore. I did it. In their will, they left the diner to me.” Unable to witness his reaction to her next statement, she watched his tanned thumb stroking her knuckles. “And I lost it.”

  “What do you mean, you lost it?”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “I couldn’t maintain the taxes on the diner and…I lost it.”

  He nodded slowly, took her hand. “Not your fault, sweetheart.”

  She bristled at that. “And whose fault was it exactly?”

  He squeezed her hand. “The economy. The government. The president; past, present or future. Hell, I don’t know, pick one. You did the best you could. You’re not alone, Shayne. A lot of people lost it.” He lifted her knuckles to his lips. “And a lot of people don’t have a brother to swoop in and save the day. Count your blessings.”

  Wow. He’d told her, hadn’t he? And she just might have been pissed if he hadn’t been right. Damn him!

  She pulled her hand away and leaned back in the booth. “I’d never thought of it that way.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” He leaned back and crossed his arms, his forearms bulging, the tattoo undulating. “It’s just that sometimes we get stuck focusing on the negative shit in our lives that we forget all the things we should be grateful for.”

  “And what are you grateful for, Enrique Santiago?”

  “Well played, Shayne Xavier.” He tipped his chin. He paused for a second, his mind seeming to wander. “I’m thankful for my family. My brother, you met him, he pisses me off sometimes, but I love him. My mom’s awesome. I hope you’ll meet her soon. I can’t complain about my career.”

  “Especially since my brother got hurt.”

  His expression turned to stone. “I didn’t get off on his injury.”

  She nearly jumped across the table to put her hands on his arms. “I know. I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to insinuate—”

  “A lot of people, X included, think I did some kind of happy dance the day he had to be helped off the diamond. I’m not a monster.” He eased forward to make the contact easier. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m happy to be playing left field for the Rockets. There isn’t another team I wanna play for and left field is my position. I worked my ass off and I deserve to be standing left of center.”

  “Your ass looks mighty fine standing left of center.” She smiled, hoping for flirty.

  He stared at her for a second and a half, then laughed.

  “What else are you thankful for?” she asked.

  “Right here, right now, I’m thankful I went to X’s wedding reception.”

  “You weren’t gonna go?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. He doesn’t like me. Which is cool. I’m not his greatest fan either. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “At the last second I decided to go.” He leaned over the table and kissed her. A simple, gentle, momentary meeting of lips. “Yeah, I am real thankful I went to that reception.”

  ***

  Ricky couldn’t believe all the lovey-dovey shit he’d just spewed. He’d have to cut the corner off of his mancard when he got home. He really needed to get away from Shayne before he started quoting Shakespeare.

  He stood. “Hey, I’m gonna hit the bathroom. You okay?”

  Her smile knocked his socks off. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll round up Matt so we can head home.”

  It was then he realized the restaurant had started stacking chairs on top of tabletops. He glanced down at his watch. 11:00. Holy crap! They’d been here for four hours. It had only seemed like a couple. Time really did fly when a guy was having fun.

  He hurried to the bathroom, did his business and headed back to find Shayne and Matt waiting by the front door, their heads together.

  “You need to go for it, Mom.”

  “Go for what?” Ricky asked, smile firmly in place.

  They jumped apart, looking guilty as sin.

  Matt waggled his eyebrows. “Ya know, it.”

  Shayne cuffed him in the back of the head and turned a thousand exquisite shades of pink. Matt raced out the door, his amusement trailing behind him. Ricky fell into step next to her and put an arm around her waist, guiding her into his side.

  “Sometimes I just don’t know about that kid. And I’m his mother.”

  Ricky chuckled. “He just wants to see you happy.”

  “And in his twelve-year-old mind, he thinks getting laid will
do that. How warped is that? I’m his mother!”

  Again Ricky couldn’t help but laugh. “If getting laid would make you happy, I’d be more than happy to help you with that.”

  She hip-checked him and stumbled away, giggling until she dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

  The drive back to their house was quiet. Matt had slumped against the door in the backseat. Ricky doubted he was asleep, even though he so obviously tried to pretend. Ricky held onto Shayne’s hand, but neither of them said anything. He wished he knew what kinds of thoughts tromped through her beautiful head. He hoped someday he would be able to read her like a book.

  As he pulled into the parking garage, she reached over the seat and jiggled Matt. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and yawned. A little too wide.

  The three of them got on the elevator and only the ridiculous soft music filled the silence. They strolled down the hall, Shayne’s hand once again firmly held in his. Butterflies flitted in his stomach. Although he’d kissed Shayne before, a goodnight kiss differed and held a certain amount of importance.

  Shayne slipped the key into the lock and Matt raced inside. He plopped down on the couch to take off his shoes. “Thanks for taking me with you guys. I had a really great time.” He yanked off his sock. “I can’t believe how good I hit the ball. You’re a really great teacher, Ricky.”

  Holding the World Series trophy couldn’t have made him feel more victorious than the kudos just given him by Shayne’s son. He walked over and held up his knuckles. “You did real good, Matt.” The solid bump of fists warmed Ricky’s heart. “I’m glad you decided to come with us.”

  “Me, too.” He flopped back on the couch and flipped the TV on.

  “Uh-uh, young man.” Shayne pointed down the hall. “Bed. Now.”

  Matt hmmphed, but the TV went off and he sulked away. “Night, Ricky.”

  “Night, man.”

  As soon as the kid’s door closed, she stepped closer to Ricky. His heart hit the back of his throat, his pulse racing. She held out her hand. He took it, shaking it slowly, letting the What the hell? go unspoken. She entwined their fingers.

  “I had a really great time today.”

  He wrapped his other arm around her waist and brought her in nice and tight. “Me, too. Best date I’ve ever had.”

  The stretch she pulled brought her lips close. He leaned down to capture them. She had other plans though. As soon as they met, she dropped back down, breaking the contact. Her hand burned his chest through his shirt. Surely she could feel the hammering going on beneath his ribcage ‘cause he sure as hell could see her pulse thumping out a cadence at her temple.

  “Well, thanks.” Her breathy gratitude told him more about her body’s reaction to him. She took a step back. “Goodnight.”

  He backed into the hall, wondering what the hell had just happened. The door closed and he had to shake his head. Each step trudged toward the elevator cemented what he had to do.

  Not giving himself time to decide better, Ricky turned on his heel and ran back to her door. His fist met the wood of her door with a steady Bam! Bam! Bam! He grimaced, hoping the sound didn’t scare her—or bring Matt racing to answer the door.

  She did look surprised when she whipped the door open a moment later. He didn’t give her time to ask what he was doing back. He stepped over the threshold, threaded his fingers through her hair and pushed her backward, trapping her body between the wall and his body. Their breath meshed. Her chest rose and fell. He stared into her eyes for a heartbeat, giving her the chance to fend him off with a single flash of fear.

  No fear from his Shayne, though. Only the glimpse of a smile flashed before she grabbed the back of his head and smashed their lips together.

  He’d fully intended on taking control of this goodnight kiss, but as she slipped her tongue between his lips, plans changed. He would let her set the pace.

  Her hands moved over his back, sliding under the hem of his t-shirt. The moment they touched his bare skin, he growled into her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. Slanting his head, he plunged and retreated, playing cat to her mouse.

  He reached down and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. The back of his shirt bunched to his shoulder blades. Her nails bit into his skin, scoring him, marking him.

  A toilet flushed down the hall.

  They both froze.

  She pulled back and kissed each corner of his mouth, his cheeks, his nose. Her breaths hit his face in short, minty puffs.

  “We gotta stop.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” His body bellowed its unresounding Nooo!

  She uncrossed her legs and slid down his body, every inch of her moving over his painfully aroused groin. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and groaned.

  “Sorry.” She bit her lip to stifle her giggle.

  “You’re not a bit sorry.” He swooped in for another quick kiss, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. He bit down and she squeaked.

  “I gotta admit—” Her eyes dropped to the front of his jeans and she smiled. “I like that I affect you like that.”

  “You affect me all right.” He stepped away from her, willing himself under control. “And now I’m gonna be payin’ for it all night.”

  She smiled and his crotch took notice, pulling a little pay attention to me of its own.

  “You gotta stop doin’ that.”

  “Doin’ what?” She stalked him. He backed up until his butt hit the back of the couch. She came up and put her hands on his hips. She leaned into him, only allowing their lips to touch, gentle pressure.

  He moaned against her mouth. “I’m gonna need a few minutes before I’m able to walk.”

  “Take as long as you need.” She tipped her head toward the door. “Lock up on your way out.” Another press of lips, a quick swipe of her tongue over the seam and she backed up, her eyes shining with evil, unfulfilled promise. “Goodnight, Ricky.”

  And with that, she turned to sashay down the hall. He nearly lost it in his boxers when he heard a shower turn on.

  7

  Today would either be awesome or atrocious. There would be no in between. Ricky, in all of his planning, had managed to put together all the makings of a great time or a complete cluster fu—…

  The doorbell rang and he hustled to let in the first of his guests. He’d purposely told Shayne and Matt to arrive an hour early with the hopes of having a few minutes of peace and calm before the thunderclouds showed up.

  Matt raced in, basketball under his arm. “Tell me you got a hoop.”

  “Sorry, man, but I do have a batting cage.”

  “Shut up!” Matt looked around like he might find the cage in the family room. “You got a bat.”

  “I’m sure he’s got an extra long one,” Shayne said.

  Ricky choked.

  Matt snorted.

  Ricky forced his mouth closed, but couldn’t tear his eyes from the amused face of Matt’s mother. Her chocolate eyes swam with the laughter her pursed lips kept at bay.

  Damn, if she whipped off a one-liner like that in front of the guys, he’d be toast! X would probably castrate him in his own kitchen.

  “Um, Ricky?”

  The headshake was meant to clear his thoughts, instead it sent them on frappe. He blinked and focused on Matt instead of all the very naughty things he wanted to do to Shayne. “Yeah, kid?”

  “Batting cage?”

  For a split second, he thought of Shayne dressed in only a helmet and cleats, sandwiched between his body and the chain link with his bat…

  “Ricky?”

  “Yeah.” Maybe he should call the guys and cancel this little meet and greet. Having Shayne under his roof for the very first time affected him in ways he hadn’t expected. Every time he turned around, he saw her pressed against something. Or bent over it. Or…

  “Ricky!”

  “Sorry, dude. I’m having a hard time thinking.”

  “On where the batting cage is?” Matt rolled his hazels.

 
“It’s right out back.” He motioned for Matt to follow him. “Come on, I’ll get you all set up.” Never would it have crossed his mind for Shayne to keep her distance, but he prayed she wouldn’t touch him. He was coiled so tight, a single touch from her and he might boooing! clear into next week.

  Walking up to the French door, he swung it open wide, holding it for them to walk outside. Matt shot through, oohing and ahhing about the huge yard, the built-in barbeque, the swimming pool, the batting cage.

  Shayne, however, didn’t ooh or ahh. She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

  Some date he was. “Absolutely. Come here, mujer bonita.” He bent down to put his mouth on hers. He tasted. He consumed. He welcomed. “Hi.”

  “Nice place you got here,” she said a little breathlessly.

  “Thanks.”

  Bats clattered to the ground, interrupting their moment.

  Shayne snorted softly. “I think that’s his way of reminding us he’s here.”

  “I gotta admit I’m a little distracted.” He ran his hands through his hair.

  Shayne watched the action then put her fingers to his scalp. “You kinda made a mess of it.”

  “You’ve kinda made a mess of me.”

  Her full lips turned down. “I’m sorry. We can—”

  “You’re not goin’ anywhere.” He kissed her cheek. “But you gotta promise you won’t talk about the length or width or weight of my bat when the guys get here.”

  She laughed, choking on it when he scowled.

  He put his lips to her ear. “The things I wanna do to you…” He let the phrase drift into a growl.

  She swayed and gripped tighter to his shoulders. Her breasts brushed his chest with every breath. After a few moments of not saying anything, she retreated from his embrace, brushed her hands over the front of her tank top, smoothed down her shorty-shorts and stuck out her hand.

  He glared at it, but took it anyway.

  “I promise,” she said with a shake, “to be on my very best behavior. I will not talk about your bat if you will refrain from telling me the things you wanna do to me.” She shivered. Her eyes closed for a brief second. “Deal?”